


Mint gelato with an ocean view

by dreaminghigher (regencyaus)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Eames is in love, Established relationship not really kinda, Fluff, M/M, Post-Inception, aka the only way i write canon lol, that's all it takes to figure out if this fic is for you because oh boy it's a cheesy paragraph, that's not a spoiler bacuse it's his POV and he brings it up in paragraph 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22682905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regencyaus/pseuds/dreaminghigher
Summary: "Did ya hear something?""Yeah, your snores,” Eames answers, half awake. “You gonna wake up all of my neighbors.”"I don't snore, dick.""Tell that to the neighbors."In a daydream, Eames talks Arthur into taking a lovely vacation. When he thinks about it objectively, the problem number one he finds is the ‘vacation’. Arthur’s a workaholic, and a paranoid one at that. It will be a hard case to sell.Or: Arthur and Eames work through some issues, while Eames tries to talk Arthur into a vacation.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98
Collections: Eames' Stupid Cupid 2020





	Mint gelato with an ocean view

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kedgeree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedgeree/gifts).



> To my giftee: hope you enjoy this! The prompt **mint** made me think of ice cream and it somehow turned into Eames wanting Arthur to take a vacation. Hopefully it's still in line with what you wanted!

Eames is a known sceptic, of any and all things, but with time he was driven to make a quick concession. All love is fake, sure, except for whatever Arthur makes him feel when he smiles at Eames.

Eames lives for those moments. They’re rare, of course, but that just makes them all the sweeter. When Eames cracks through the façade to get a real, genuine smile? That’s better than ecstasy. 

"I heard you like the bad boys," Eames announces when he enters his living room, taking a sip from his cup. "I don't wanna brag, but I'm pretty bad."

Arthur is sprawled out on the couch, working on something. When he hears Eames he looks up. “Hmm, is that so?”

Arthur is indulging Eames today. Jackpot.

“Yeah, hardcore.” Eames nods towards the cup. “You see, I'm drinking breakfast tea and it's, huh, 8pm.”

“That's badass.” “Well, you see, to me being bad is not a choice, it's, hmm,” Eames pauses, as if looking for the right word. “It's a lifestyle. You know what I mean?”

There, just a bit of a smile. Eames wins today.

“You’re a dumbass,” Arthur tells him finally, shaking his head. “Make me a cup, will ya?”

“…a cup of tea? Thought you were a coffee kind of dude.”

“Well, you keep buying this stuff and leaving it in my place. I had to see what the fuzz was all about.”

Eames can barely believe it. “So you drink tea now?”

“Sometimes,” Arthur tells him, and doesn’t elaborate. 

Eames might as well abdicate his cup for the cause, he thinks. He puts it in the coffee table, within Arthur’s reaching distance, and makes room for himself underneath Arthur’s legs on the couch. Arthur takes a sip and nods a silent thanks.

“What are you working on?”

“Schedule for my next job.”

Oh.

Well, Eames knew he was leaving. Of course he was leaving. Arthur never sticks around for more than a week. A fortnight, if Eames’ really lucky. But these stolen moments that Eames has, between one commitment and the next, always seem to go by too fast.

“When are you leaving?” Eames asks.

“Tomorrow.” In Arthur's defense, he does look a little apologetic.

“How long, do you think?”

“The job? About a couple months. No more than three.”

Eames takes one of the feet in his lap in his hands and starts messaging it. He applies pressure on the sole, and then slowly slips his fingers between Arthur's toes. Tomorrow, huh. Might as well make the most of it.

“Can I distract you?”

“Hmm. You can any time,” Arthur tells him easily.

 _Any time_. That’s certainly not true, but Eames will take it.

*

The thing about Arthur is that he doesn’t really let his guard down around him. Not really. The sex is great, and Arthur truly enjoys himself and enjoys the quiet moments, too, but he’s, well- he’s always ready to flee. He never unpacks more than two pieces of clothing at a time, never stays for long, just in case. Eames is a thief, and a liar, but it still hurts his feelings. What does Arthur think he’s gonna do, betray him? Eames whole self introspection about love and Arthur smiling seems a little ironic, in context.

One of Eames' goals about this, besides making Arthur smile, would be to just make Arthur chill out for a couple weeks. Eames would love to show Arthur that he is safe and he can let go, no worries attached. Eames is sure that Arthur is capable of it. He’s just not doing it where Eames can see.

Arthur bolts upright at 3 am, feeling suspicious. Eames groans and burrows deeper into the covers.

"Did ya hear something?"

"Yeah, your snores,” Eames answers, half awake. “You gonna wake up all of my neighbors.”

"I don't snore, dick."

"Tell that to the neighbors."

Arthur doesn’t pay attention. He pulls out a Glock, makes sure it's loaded and leaves to check the doors. Eames stays in denial for 3 extra seconds and then stumbles out after him, to check the windows.

It's a street cat, in the end. Arthur shrugs, almost self conscious, and goes back to sleep.

In a daydream, Eames talks Arthur into taking a lovely vacation. When he thinks about it objectively, the problem number one he finds is the ‘vacation’. Arthur’s a workaholic, and a paranoid one at that. It will be a hard case to sell.

*

“Alright, I'm off to the airport,” Arthur tells him in the morning, about thirty minutes after waking up.

Eames looks at him. Arthur is fully dressed, suitcase in hand, hair gelled perfectly into obedience. Eames is in his underwear, nursing half a cup of coffee. The difference makes him smile.

“Take care doll. Until the next time.” Eames even waves a little.

Arthur starts to leave, pauses in the doorway. Eames waits him out, drinking his coffee.

“I'll be done in a couple months,” Arthur says, even though that’s information that Eames already has. It’s as close to an invitation as Eames is going to get.

“See you, dear.”

“Yeah,” Arthur nods. “See ya later.”

And then he's gone. Eames looks around the empty apartment and sighs.

*

Eames is a denier of strategy. If you get too stuck to a plan, he believes, you miss a lot of opportunities that pop up along the way. You should have guidelines, sure, but you should also pay attention to the world around you and be willing to adapt as necessary. 

So he doesn’t have a plan to make Arthur take a vacation. Not exactly. But he does start by dropping hints.

“How’s the job going, doll?” Eames asks, maybe 5 weeks later. Arthur’s not receptive.

“…why? Why are you calling me?” And then, in a lower tone of voice, “Did you get into trouble?”

Lovely to talk to you too, dear.

“We've gotta work on your paranoia Arthur. I hear those Japanese zen temples are lovely this time of year.”

“It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you.”

“Ha ha.”

Arthur is actually right about this one, but Eames is not gonna indulge his trigger-happy tendencies today. Besides, Eames just spent two weeks in a Macau casino and is feeling particularly lethargic right now. Arthur will have to deal.

“No, for real. Why are you calling?” Arthur tries again. At least he sounds less alert. Eames switches strategies.

“Can’t a man just miss his buddy?” Eames tries in a perfectly cheery voice.

“…we’re not buddies.”

Ouch. “That breaks my heart, Arthur, it really does. We are definitely buddies.”

“Is that what this is about? You’re calling me to say you wanna be buddies?”

What on earth.

“Seriously,” Arthur starts, and pauses. “Just a second.”

There’s the sound of a chair on the floor. “ _Hey_ ,” Eames hears Arthur say, but the receiver is muffled and he knows it’s not directed at him, “ _I'll be taking ten_.”

Someone acknowledges him, but Eames can’t hear the specific words.

“Seriously,” Arthur starts again. Eames hears the sound of a metal door closing and imagines that Arthur decided to take their call outside. “Seriously. I've had a long week. Half of the people on this job are,” his voice drops to barely above a decibel, “ _goddamn incompetent_ and my patience is wearing thin right now.”

“Complicated job?”

“Not really. Militarization, practically legal. Payment's good. It’s just taking so longer than it should.”

“Due to incompetence?”

Arthur sighs. “God, yes. You know how it can be.” Yeah, Eames does.

“You guys could use some help.”

“Why, you’re looking for work?”

Eames actually considers for a second. But nah, not what he wants right now.

“Nah, thank you.”

“I didn’t think you were doing militarizations these days.” There’s an implied _that’s why I didn’t offer_ there. Eames is flattered, particularly because Arthur thinks half his team is incompetent. Arthur seeing Eames as someone who would good at what he does is always an ego boost.

“I'm not doing them,” Eames confirms. “Nor any jobs, to be honest. I actually think it’s great to take a vacation sometimes.”

“…okay?”

Perfect opener, Eames thinks. It was a bit of a work around but he got to where he wanted. This is the moment to defend the concept of a Day Off. 

He’s interrupted. Of course he is.

  
“ _Arthur_ ,” he can hear distantly through the receiver, “ _tell Eames to call you later. We figured out the live CCTV feed, you should take a look_.”

“Why do you guys need CCTV for a militarization?”

“What?” Arthur takes a second to catch up. “Oh, we’re having the guy run drills in real life, so his subconscious knows what to project. “

“Okay, why was CCTV something that needed to be figured out?”

“Incompetence,” Arthur sighs, with such bone-weary resignation that Eames winces in sympathy. “We actually have tech support for this one. Like, tech support is taking care of it. There was no chance for anything to go wrong, right?”

Eames laughs. He imagines the kind of expression Arthur has on right now.

“ _Arthur_ ,” Eames hears again, this time closer, and that’s when Eames actually places the voice.

And immediately wants to fight. What the _fuck_.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Eames asks. “Dom Arthur? Seriously?”

Arthur sighs.

“He’s my friend, Eames.”

“That’s why you fucking sit down and have fucking cookies with him or something. Tea party, you drink that now. You don’t fucking _work_ with him again.”

“He’s a good extractor.”

“He’s _psychologically unstable_ to say the least.”

Arthur snorts, and doesn’t even bother denying. For some reason that pisses Eames off even further.

“I bet you have an incompetent team because _no one else sane_ in this business wants to work with him again, Arthur.”

Arthur sighs again, deeper this time.

“It’s a militarization, Eames. Simple and straight to the point. The kinda job that has the mark's consent and everything. How bad could it be?”

Is Arthur kidding him.

“I'm pretty sure there’s scholarly articles dedicated exclusively to the sentence how bad could it be,” Eames tells him. “Fucking Murphy’s Law or something.”

“Eames.”

“If he gets you killed this time I don’t care.” He cares so, so much. Goddamnit why is Arthur such an idiot.

“I'll keep it in mind,” Arthur soothes him.

The moment hangs for a second or two.

“Sorry Eames, I’ve gotta go,” Arthur tells him. “What were you calling about?”

“Sorry?” Eames needs a second to catch up.

“You called me. What was it about?”

Oh. Well, Eames has been too sidetracked for that now. He shrugs and remembers that Arthur can’t see him.

“Nothing urgent,” he says. “It can wait.”

Arthur doesn’t seem to buy it, but he lets it go. “Okay. I should be done in a couple months.”

“You were gonna be done in a couple months over a month ago.”

“Well, this time it’s true. Hopefully. Pick a place, I'll pay for a nice hotel room when this is over.”

Wait. Seriously?

“Seriously?”

“Sure,” Arthur tells him.

Eames didn’t see that one coming. He racks his brain for something.

“Northern Italy,” he answers finally. “A small village somewhere.”

Arthur sounds skeptical. “Really?” 

“Backtracking already love?”

“No, just. I thought you were more of a metropolis kind of guy.”

Eames is, most of the time. Exceptions can be made.

“I've been doing some self-introspection these days,” Eames shares with him. “I decided I could use a quiet vacation. Something I hear the philosophers are calling ‘taking a break’.”

Arthur snorts.

“And you wanna do that in an Italian village?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I want gelato,” Eames answers immediately. “Mint with chocolate chips. You know, ice cream, the good stuff. And I'm in favor of walking through the streets of a medieval city where literally no one knows me. Also I wanna look at the ocean and think ‘ooh nice.’”

“How small does the village have to be?”

“No mall anywhere near in sight.”

Arthur considers this.

“Can it be within 30 miles of an airport?”

Hmm.

“50,” Eames tells him.

“I'm down.”

“Great.” 

“Alright.”

This was… a lot easier than Eames expected? Eames can barely believe it. “See you later,” he adds. “Oh, and tell Dom to go fuck himself for me, will ya love?”

“Sure. Dom, Eames is telling you to go fuck yourself.”

“ _Tell Eames that I'll be forever grateful for the opportunity I was given back in life when you guys agreed to be a part of that job_ ,” Eames can hear, close to the phone. “ _Differences aside I wish him all the bes_ t.”

“Tell him to go fuck himself sideways,” Eames adds.

Arthur just laughs.

*

Eames is _bored_.

About two months into Arthur’s job Eames is ready to admit that he misses him. Arthur is just- good company. And Eames hasn’t seen him in _forever_.

Eames justifies calling again over the fact that it’s a Dom job and Arthur could, potentially, be dead.

“Are you dead?” he asks, as soon as Arthur picks up.

“Not particularly, no,” Arthur replies. “You?”

“Nope.”

“That’s nice.”

Hmm. Eames isn’t sure what else to say.

“I'm still stuck on the buddies thing from last call,” he brings it up, before he can talk himslef out of it. “You truly don’t see me as even a buddy?”

“You think buddy is like, a step to something?”

“…isn’t it?”

“No, Eames,” Arthur explains, amused. “It’s an independent category.”

Oh. Okay. “And we aren’t buddies?” he muses.

Arthur actually laughs out loud at that. “Did you really call me to ask ‘what are we?’”

 _Ugh_. God, no.

“You’re an asshole,” Eames tells him. “I called to get a living status report.”

“You could have texted.”

“Texting is unreliable,” Eames says promptly. “Anyone could text back. Dom could text back. Dom could impersonate you so I wouldn’t hunt his ass for killing a perfectly good point man.”

“Perfectly good, huh?”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“I got a lot of things from that. You can’t trust it unless you can hear my voice?”

God, Arthur is set on making his life difficult today.

“Arthur.”

“Eames.”

“ _Arthur_.”

Arthur’s quiet for a moment, like he’s absorbing this.

“Would you?” Arthur asks finally.

“Would I what?”

“Hunt Dom's ass for getting me killed.”

“ _Hey_!” Eames can hear through the call.

“Hush Dom,” Arthur tells him. “Your fault for eavesdropping.”

God, it’s such a heavy question and it’s still the easiest thing in the world to know the answer to.

“I- yes Arthur, I absolutely would. Yes. If Dom hurts you,” _again_ , “or puts you under extreme peril we’re gonna have words, and that’s if you’re still alive to tell the story. If he gets you killed…”

“You'll have more than words?”

“Sure.”

You can put it like that.

Arthur is quiet. Eames can hear the sound of steps and of the metal door closing behind him again, though this time Arthur didn’t ask permission for a break.

“He’s my friend, Eames,” Arthur says, once he’s outside. “You know that, right?”

Eames can hear a pack of cigarettes, a lighter.

Friends don’t risk the lives of their friends, Eames thinks. Arthur will not appreciate the thought. 

“He’s not trying to get me killed,” Arthur continues. “He had a goal, and that was top priority for him, but that’s done now.” Eames can hear smoke being blown out.

“Mal was your friend, Arthur. Dom is someone you can interact with on a personal capacity but he’s not someone you can comfortably work with, ever, or someone you should ever trust again.”

Arthur inhales, takes a moment to process the nicotine. Eames waits him out.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

 _Goddammit_.

Wong conclusion to reach, Arthur.

“That’s the entire point darling. You should trust people. It's necessary to trust people in life. You’re just doing it to the wrong ones. Trust people who have proven themselves to be reliable to you over the course of years and not the ones who consider you fucking _expandable_ in the face of their goals.”

The line is silent for a long time.

“Ouch.”

“Too much?” Eames asks.

“Maybe a little,” Arthur answers honestly.

“Sorry,” Eames tries, but Arthur doesn’t need it.

“Don’t be.” 

More silence. 

Arthur sighs. “I'll keep it in mind Eames. Give me a moment to process, okay?”

“Alright. How's the job going?”

Arthur’s glad for the break. “Better. We’re actually sticking to a schedule this time.”

“Did you fire the tech support?”

“I wish. No, actually I washed my hands of the whole thing.”

Eames smiles. That’s not very Arthur of him at all but Eames is glad he’s doing it. You can’t carry all the weight of the job yourself.

“But they’re doing better?” Eames asks.

“Yeah, no issues these days.”

“Good.”

Arthur changes the subject. “Have you chosen the Italian village?”

“Hmm yeah, actually,” Eames shares, “One of the Cinque Terre. 40 miles away from the Pisa airport.”

“That works. I should be ready to go in a couple weeks.”

“I'll believe it when I see it.”

“Your mistrust, as always, is much appreciated Eames, thank you.”

Eames smiles into his phone. “Go back to work. I'll see you around.”

“You literally made plans with me, Eames, I think you’re allowed to be more direct than see you around.”

Yeah, sure, but also, Eames is terrified of scaring Arthur off, somehow. Of crossing some invisible boundary. Arthur’s confusing.

Eames tries again. “I'll see you later. I'll see you in a couple weeks.”

“Sure. It's a date.”

*

Arthur's job goes well.

It’s been about three months when Eames sees him again. Arthur is just coming through arrivals at the airport. He looks jet legged and exhausted but when he notices Eames on the crowd, he immediately smiles. God. Eames missed him so much he feels like it’s hard to breathe, somehow. 

Against all odds and the general balance of probability, the vacation happens. A couple days later they find themselves in the Pisa airport. Eames would have bet against it. He feels his poker chip firmly is his pocket half a dozen times, just to be sure it’s real.

“So,” Arthur asks, once they leave the airport, “what now?"

Eames wants to laugh. The idea that Arthur doesn’t know what to do with free time is so funny yet still entirely on brand for him.

Eames puts on his sunglasses and looks out into the city.

“Now,” Eames starts, and makes a dramatic hand gesture to the world ahead, “we enjoy ourselves.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Arthur says, but he’s smiling.

They drive down to Riomaggiore first, along some breathtaking view of the coast. They talk hotels and Eames makes a big deal out of it just for show, but he doesn’t actually care if Arthur's paying for the hotel or not. It’s not the point. Eames’ just glad to be there.

They park and buy some gelato. Eames finally, finally has his mint one. Arthur gets a cone with some pretentious flavors, like pistachio and cherry wine.

“How can an ice cream cone be pretentious?” Arthur asks him.

“Don’t know baby, but you manage it.”

“Oh, hush.”

They go down one of the hills with an ocean view and walk along the railing. Suddenly, Arthur starts smiling. “Hey, we’re in a village where no one knows you are, the ocean is right there for you to say ‘ooh nice' and you’re having your mint gelato. All your dreams coming true, huh?”

Eames actually stops walking for a moment.

“…you remember what I say word for word?”

“Shut up.”

Eames looks down into the ocean, at the place where the waves meet the rocks. He closes his eyes and for a moment just breathes in the ocean breeze. Feels the little droplets that splash back against his skin and enjoys the sound of the water.

“Yeah,” he says finally. “This is very nice.”

He opens his eyes again and watches the view. “But I've gotta a confession, darling. This was all pretense, the Italian village and the ice cream. I just wanted you to take a break.”

“…what?”

“Yeah. The destination didn’t matter. I was just testing an earlier theory.”

“Hmmmm.” Arthur looks down into the ocean too. “I feel a little betrayed, all things considered.”

Eames laughs.

“Don’t be. Nothing but good intentions here.”

“Hmmm.”

Arthur looks at him and reaches out to cleans a droplet that fell on Eames’ cheek. He thumbs it away, keeps looking at Eames' cheek. After a moment he resumes walking.

“So. What was the great theory you’ve been testing?” He asks. Eames shrugs.

“Oh. Just this thought I had some time ago. All love is fake except for whatever you make me feel when you smile at me.”

Arthur is silent for a long time. Eames leans down and takes some of his cone, since Arthur is obviously not making proper use of it. Arthur blinks and slaps him away, walking again.

“I don’t know if it is fake or not,” Arthur replies, some moments later. “I can’t tell you it isn’t. I don’t know. I've struggled with it myself.”

“No pressure. I was just sharing some thoughts.”

“But I believe in it, when I'm smiling at you.”

Oh.

Oh, that is. Eames doesn’t know what to say.

That’s very nice.

Are those butterflies? God, he's not a teenager. They're really nice, though.

Their walk is silent for a few meters.

A bird flies by, and Eames gets distracted watching it.

“Speaking of betrayal…” Arthur starts.

That can’t be good. “We were speaking of betrayal?”

“It’s a betrayal because the Italian village and mint gelato were pretense. You lied about your intentions.”

“Oh boy.”

Arthur laughs. “Nothing bad, I promise,” he starts. “Speaking of it, I just wanted to tell you that you’re right. About Dom. I won’t work with him again. He’s good at it, sure, but he’s a liability. I can’t help him. He needs some good therapy. Until then working with him means putting myself at risk.”

Wow. Eames wasn’t expecting that one.

"That's an important decision to make," Eames says, gently.

"Yeah. But- I'm good."

“Mazel tov,” Eames tells him.

“Cheers,” Arthur replies, and takes some of his ice cream.

Eames leans down and kisses him, just to see if he can get away with it. He can.

Arthur's lips are cold and very sweet. Eames could get used to this, he thinks.

Before leaving Eames tells Arthur literally the worst knock knock joke he can think of. The banana one.

Arthur smiles at him, and that makes the world just a little brighter.


End file.
